I'd just leave. Move out, get a nice new place. I'd buy it and would finally have something of my own. I'd be alone, but slowly I would build up a rotation. Dates on Wednesdays and Fridays. The Fridays would sometimes wash into Saturdays, but the girls wouldn't be the same. One of us would eventually cancel the Friday. Sometimes we'd care, but mostly we wouldn't. The next adventure is just a swipe or a DM away. Ain't no thang.
But I'd get lonely. Not overwhelmingly so, but enough to desire a permanent companion. Not a woman, of course. An Aussie sheepdog - because they're smart. Or a Greyhound because they're fast, and sleek, and chill, like me.
He'd help me get more dates ("he's so cute!"), three times a week now. Pretty soon it becomes apparent she's in it for the dog more than she's in it for my dick - of course my dick, what else, my personality? I no longer have one, not since I've done away with vulnerability. I can be polite, I can crack a joke, I can impress her with this or that. I'm ambitious, I make money, but it's not like she knows who I am. Who I really am. Who am I, really?
You know who knows who I am? Doggo. He knows. He knows who feeds him, and he's going to be loyal as long as I keep feeding him. He'll probably starve alongside me to be honest, not like that other bitch. That's why I love Doggo. That's why we love each other. We need each other. That bitch, she didn't need me. I didn't need her.
So what's to love?
What's to love?